


I Think We Can

by nowdeconstruct



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Gen, Kids, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-09
Updated: 2013-07-09
Packaged: 2017-12-18 05:04:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nowdeconstruct/pseuds/nowdeconstruct
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reality seems rosy through the eyes of children, especially for Dean Winchester. This is the beginning of the perilous and unbalanced love between two broken individuals, both with hardships and weights bearing down on their shoulders in the coming years. As children, people wish and hope for good things, but most of the time, they have to live through tribulations through the years before they can reach true peace.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think We Can

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be a series when I have more written. I've uploaded this part because I want to see how people react to it before I put the time in to write more.

**_June, 1988_ **

_The sound of a roaring engine filled the silence of a blissfully calm neighborhood, drawing the attention of every person in the area. A sleek, black Chevy Impala sped down the paved lot, stopping in the driveway of a quaint little house. The car itself looked menacing, like a predator in wait, but the family inside toppled that impression easily. There were four individuals crammed inside, consisting of a blond woman, a gruff, serious looking man, and two children, six and ten years old, respectively. The oldest child had frazzled auburn hair, as if he never brushed it, and was of average height. He was a handsome boy, complete with chubby cheeks and a medium build, and he could easily be compared to his father, aside from the obvious scruff. His brother was much smaller, in both height and weight, and unlike him, had shoulder-length, thick brown hair. Though they were brothers, they didn’t share characteristics, both unique but obviously heralding from the same family._

_The woman, Mary, jumped out of the passenger side door and rushed forward with a shout of delight at the sight of the looming home ahead. On her face was a radiant smile, a beautiful sight for any onlooker to behold. She truly looked happy, standing in front of that house, marveling at its charm, shouting for the others in the car to join her. Her husband, John, glanced out momentarily to look at her, and even though he looked completely serious, he quickly had a smile on his face due to her enthusiasm. He opened his door shortly after, stretching for a moment before glancing in the backseat at the children, the oldest of which was rousing from sleep, rubbing his eyes and yawning. The child took one glance at the other boy beside him and chuckled loudly. His brother was fast asleep, hair thrown every which way, and he was drooling into the back of the leather seat._

_"Dean, grab your brother and come check out the new house."_

_Dean, the older boy, nodded his head once and started to shake the younger child roughly as he watched his father walk away. It was difficult to rouse him from sleep on a good day, let alone when they'd been riding in a car for hours. Groans surfaced from his brother, indicating he was slowly but surely waking up, and Dean felt a momentary jolt of victory before the boy rolled over and fell back asleep in seconds. With a shout, Dean started to tickle him, and hazel eyes slammed open immediately, laughs and shouts erupting from his lips._

_"Stop! Dean, Dean stop! Oh my God, stop! DEAN!"_

_At that moment, he was screaming, trying his best to get away, but Dean wouldn't let up. If there was one thing Dean knew about his baby brother, it was that he was the most ticklish person he'd ever met, and it was hilarious. After a few moments of torture, he stopped and rushed out of the car before his brother could retaliate, running toward the house with a laugh on his lips. His brother, Sam, came barreling after him, face contorted in an angry scowl, but he was much slower. They ran in circles for a few moments before their father told them to stop, and immediately, they ceased in play._

_Sam glared at him for a good ten minutes while their parents surveyed the outside of the house, stating that it was 'finally done' and 'livable'. Dean wasn't as interested in the home as they were; in fact, he hated that they had to move. Back in Wichita, he had known the area like the back of his hand, had many friends, and was pretty happy with his surroundings. Now, in Lawrence, he had to start over, and beginnings were never fun:  new school, new people, new everything. It was a bit overwhelming, but there was just no winning with his parents. They made the rules, and he had to follow them, regardless of what he wanted. Still, if he had to live in this neighborhood, he could at least give it a chance. He wasn't known for giving up or throwing a tantrum, he took things in stride and accepted them for what they were._

_Dean looked around with a keen eye, curious as to what the area actually looked like. There were several houses dotting his vision, all large and particularly homey. The smallest house in the vicinity had to be the one they now owned, but Dean didn't care about that. All of the homes looked inviting and cozy, as if it didn't matter the size or structure. Some had tire swings, others had outdoor swimming pools, and the homes looked as if a unique cluster of families lived in them, as if wealth and importance didn't matter, but was still somewhat a factor in their livelihoods. He had to admit it was a nice area, and his parents would definitely love it. He was willing to bet the neighbors were the kind who had barbecues and monthly parties to celebrate events, who celebrated holidays and birthdays with the entire neighborhood, not just their families; the kind of people who baked new neighbors casseroles and pies, welcoming them with open arms. He had to admit he was looking forward to receiving food and the like, especially pie, so they couldn't be all that bad._

_After glancing at his parents, who seemed to be talking with a couple that had appeared out of nowhere, and his brother, who was standing there listening, he rushed toward the back of the house. There wasn't anything special about the yard, no tire swings or pools, just a simple stretch of grass with a path leading to a backdoor. There was, however, a boy standing nearby, staring at him with blue eyes that were piercing in their gaze. They were a bit disconcerting, but Dean was never one to cower in fear at the prospect of communication. He wasn't shy, and so he walked toward the kid, who looked to be about the same age as himself, and held out his hand with a grin._

_"Dean Winchester, at your service."_

_He stared upward at the strange boy, giving as good as he got. The kid was kind of strange, dressed in black pants and a black t-shirt that sported a strange string of letters that didn’t look to be in English across the chest. Strangely, he wore a tan jacket, much like an overcoat men in old movies wore. His hair was disheveled and looked just as long as his brother’s, but the strangest feature were his eyes. They were incredibly blue, perhaps the bluest he’d ever seen, and they continued to burn a hole through him. Normally, people would look away, embarrassed or simply giving the other person an out, but him? He kept that gaze plastered, and Dean felt kind of odd being on the receiving end of it. So, he stared back, trying to make the boy look away._

_The blue eyes didn't waver, however. The boy continued to stare as if his life depended on it, eyes bright and assessing. He smiled, then, a twitch of his lips to the right, and gripped Dean's hand. He didn't shake though, simply held on, as if he wasn’t familiar with the custom of shaking hands, and it was making Dean a little uncomfortable, so he let go, then cleared his throat and glanced away. The boy didn't give his name, which was a little weird, but Dean ignored it. He was new to the neighborhood, and if this was some kind of initiation, where the kid was assessing him, then he wasn't about to call the kid a freak and move on, no matter how much he suddenly wanted to. The boy just nodded, then, and turned around, walking away from him slowly. Before he could leave, however, he glanced back at him and gave another one of those smiles._

_"Hello, Dean."_

_With those words, the boy started to walk away. He didn’t hurry, simply bounded down the sidewalk at a steady pace, his eyes never wavering from his path ahead. Even the way the kid walked was strange. He was stiff and upright, like he looked uncomfortable, his coat billowing behind him in a swirl of tan. As he watched the kid, he didn’t notice his brother walking beside him, following the trail of his eyesight._

_“Who was that weird kid?”_

_Dean jumped at the sound of Sam’s voice, caught completely unaware. He turned around suddenly, and gave his brother a look and a shrug before he looked back, wondering if the kid was still nearby. The kid had finally gone, though, and Dean wondered for a moment just where he lived. He didn’t answer Sam’s question, since he had no idea who the kid was; he hadn’t even gotten a name. However, considering how small the neighborhood was, he was sure he would see the kid again. Still, he wasn’t sure how he felt about that particular fact. Should he be elated that he had met someone else so quickly in such a short period of time, he wasn’t sure, but there wasn’t much he could do about it._

_Little did he know, that day was the day his life changed forever._

* * *

_It didn’t take very long for Dean to familiarize himself with the new neighborhood or to adjust to the new house. The area was great, unlike back in Wichita where the streets were unpaved and the neighbors were old and annoying. In Lawrence, he had felt comfortable, even though the families seemed artificial. The husbands acted too perfect, the wives wore Stepford smiles, and none of the neighborhood kids had accepted him as ‘friend’. It was a bit unnerving, considering he had been quite popular in his old home. The kids of the block had taken to him quite quickly back in Wichita, but then again, they hadn’t made much of a fuss when he left, so they weren’t close by any stretch of the imagination. He didn’t really care about his lack of friends, however. He was about to start a new year in school, and he just knew he’d make enough friends to last a lifetime there. Once he started school, he wouldn’t have to worry about being bored all the time with only his little brother to talk to, there would be others._

_There was a problem with all that, though. He had a stalker, or at least, he had someone who would follow him around frequently, ask millions of questions, and then disappear as if he hadn’t been nearby in the first place. If he made new friends, his new stalker was sure to drive them all away with a well-placed crazy question. The stalker in question was the weird kid he had just met a few weeks ago. The boy had a weird fixation on him, and Dean couldn’t figure out why he was always around. Whenever he went outside with Sam, to play catch or run around the neighborhood, the boy was always there, watching him, bright blue eyes twinkling. Even when he was alone outside, the kid was somehow always there, as if he had nothing better to do. The funny part about the entire situation was that he still hadn’t bothered to introduce himself, and that fact annoyed Dean more than anything. He didn’t know what the kid wanted: did he want to be his friend, or was he content just staring at him all the time and bothering him once in a while?_

_The boy had a curious look in his eye every time he turned up, but the questions he asked were the real annoyances. They were always random, things no normal person could be interested in, and they ranged from weird to weirder. Every time Dean did something, the boy would always walk up to him and tilt his head to the side comically. It seemed like the boy would pop up out of nowhere every time Dean was outside, and after a few weeks of it, he had started to grow sick of not knowing who he was or why he was around. He always looked confused, as if he didn’t really have a childhood or any normal friends, and it was both sad and irritating._

_Dean was lying in the grass in front of his home on a warm summer day, staring upward at the brilliant blue sky, simply enjoying the weather. It wasn’t particularly hot, but the humidity was high, so he was dressed in a threadbare green t-shirt and green khaki shorts. His feet were exposed to the sun, and were slightly red as if burnt. The weird kid hadn’t managed to appear yet, and for that, he was grateful, but he knew it would only be a matter of time before he wandered into the front yard, dressed in his hotter than hell overcoat. Anyone who wore a coat in eighty-five degree weather was clearly out of their mind, especially considering summer in Lawrence was usually humid and sweltering, but Dean already knew the kid was clearly insane in other ways; why not add on to the crazy?_

_As soon as he had started thinking about the blue-eyed boy, he appeared on the pavement, staring at him with his head tilted to the side. The same expression was etched across his face, confusion and curiosity wrapped up in a ball, as if Dean was truly a perplexing thing. That day, however, Dean wasn’t going to sit around and let the kid bother him, he had wanted to relax, and it was just a little difficult with those deep blue eyes watching his every move. He sat up suddenly, green eyes focusing on the kid and not leaving his sight. The kid noticed the sudden attention and sat up, head straight, body ramrod. He walked toward Dean and stood above him. His lips curled into a little smile as he stared._

_“Your clothes match the grass, Dean.”_

_Dean stood up then, a few inches away from the kid, and stared at him oddly. What in the hell would possess him to make such a useless statement like that? Dean literally could not figure the boy out, but it was clear to him that he wasn’t going to go anywhere, possibly ever, if he continued living in the neighborhood, so close by. So Dean held up his hand once, clearly vexed, and took a slow step back before he spoke his mind._

_“Look. You’ve been staring at me and asking me weird questions for weeks, and I don’t even know who you are, or hell, what you want! Don’t you have any friends to bother?”_

_The kid’s stare didn’t waver, and he didn’t look like he registered what Dean said for a long moments. Then his lip twitched, for just a split second, as if his words had finally been soaked up like a sponge inside the kid’s head. The kid looked away, and Dean thought he hurt his feelings for a split second, but he noticed that the kid’s tiny smile never disappeared. When he looked back up at Dean, his eyes were wide, as if he couldn’t believe the turn of events._

_“Castiel.”_

_The boy muttered the strange word with a nod of his head, and Dean did a double take, brows furrowed in concentration._

_“What?”_

_“My name. It’s Castiel. Castiel Milton.”_

_For a moment, Dean didn’t say another word. He simply stared now, absolutely confused. Why did the kid want to introduce himself now, after weeks of annoying questions, weeks of Dean trying to figure out who he was, weeks of him being around? He hadn’t thought the kid, Castiel, could get any weirder. But now? Now he was the King of Weird. And his name? That had to be the icing on the proverbial cake!_

_“Castiel?” He mouthed the name with raised brows, obviously perplexed, “what kind of name is Castiel?”_

_“What kind of name is Dean?”_

_Dean laughed at that. The kid asked the question with a straight face, as if he truly thought his name was odd, even though it was probably one of the most popular boy names in the world._

_“It’s a pretty normal name, dude. Yours though? Cas-tee-el? Kinda weird.”_

_Castiel actually shrugged, and Dean had been surprised he’d managed to show an actual emotion, an actual feeling that wasn’t confusion, and Dean held out his hand again, just like the day they met. Castiel glanced down at his outstretched hand, his eyes squinting as if he was trying to figure out what was happening. Then he slowly grabbed hold of his hand, and held it tightly, staring up at Dean with a friendly glint of blue. Dean shook their entwined hands forcefully, as if he was showing the kid just what a held out hand meant, and he nodded in acceptance._

_“Do you want to be friends, Dean?”_

_The question threw him for a loop. For weeks, he thought Castiel was a freak, a weird boy who asked too many strange questions and who stared just a little too much. Perhaps he had been wrong about him the entire time. Perhaps he asked questions and stared so much because he was trying to figure out who Dean was, trying to see if he could trust him. It was a valid thought, and though the kid was still staring at him with piercing eyes, and still holding his hand as if he didn’t want to let go, he kind of wanted a friendship between them. He was the first kid to actually show interest in him, really, even though it had been weird. Still, it wasn’t like he was a mean kid or anything. Dean’s lips curled into a grin and he nodded his head, having let go of Castiel’s hand, and punching him in the shoulder lightly with a grin._

_“Yeah, Cas. I think we can be friends.”_


End file.
